


love me (like xo)

by underpressure



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Daddy Kink, Daddymonth, M/M, Masturbation, Rimming, Spanking, Sugar Daddy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-23
Updated: 2014-03-23
Packaged: 2018-01-16 16:58:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1354876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/underpressure/pseuds/underpressure
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis watches from the doorway, leans his shoulder against the wood and watches as Harry’s fingers tease along the waistband of his black boxers. He slips them under slowly and circles his fist around the shape of his cock beneath the fabric. He’s never been quiet, biting over his lips until their swollen and dark, until the sound is desperate to come out – until it pours out and he can’t stop the sobs and whine and “Daddy.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	love me (like xo)

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by [this photo](http://falsecompare.tumblr.com/post/79829258987/taur-sylvester-ulv).

The train is empty when Louis climbs on, so he picks a seat just passed the middle and unpacks the takeaway box with his dinner and unbuttons his coat. He takes a bite of the salad he bought and checks his cellphone. He has three new emails (all from his least favorite client), three snapchats from Zayn, Niall, and Stan respectively, a missed call from his sister (where his nephew will definitely be talking in the background) and a text from Harry. He checks them all, responds to his emails, sends a snap of his kale salad to all three guys, texts his sister, and then checks Harry’s message, smiling to himself as they come up.

January 23, 2012 6:42 PM  
 _On your way yet? I miss you :(_

He can already imagine Harry still in his pajamas, because he didn’t have any classes today. There are probably open textbooks all over their bed and the computer that Louis bought him has probably half of the paper he’d mentioned last night written on it. He can see practically see it, like he’s already in their bedroom and Harry is sat on the bed in one of his huge sweaters and boxers. He eats another bite of the salad and writes back:

January 23, 2012 6:43 PM  
 _Train just left. See you in an hour. xx_

He smirks as he presses send, thinks back to meeting Harry when he was only eighteen with a cheeky smile and a grip on Louis’ heart that made his breath catch in his throat every time Harry looked in his direction. He didn’t believe in love at first sight, but he had been so enthralled by the soft curls and smooth hips that lured in every man at the club, that leaving him alone on the dance floor, where any man could get him, could use him and throw him away, would have just been cruel. He could still feel the smooth base of some R&B song in the soles of his feet, behind his ribcage as he had weaved through the other men, made his way to the pale boy and purposely bumped into him as he danced. He can clearly remember the way that Harry had looked at him, eyes dark and heavy lidded.

“Oops,” He had said, voice like a slow timbre. So he didn’t believe in love at first, but if it did exist, he had fallen in love the minute he’d seen Harry on the dance floor. 

They’d been inseparable soon after that night and it didn’t take much time for Louis to incorporate Harry into every part of his life. He let him know everything – about his fears of disappointing his family, about how he was scared that he would never be more successful that he was now, about how much he was afraid of letting Harry down, of not being everything that he wanted and needed. And Harry had done the same, had told him all about his father leaving and having to help his mom out and wanting to make she was always proud of him. And maybe Louis had loved Harry at first sight. Maybe.

*

It’s just gone eight when he gets to their house, and he opens the door, steps over the shoes that are always left in the doorway and calls out for Harry. It’s dark as he sheds his coat and Vans, heads up the stairs. Harry doesn’t respond so he stops to peak into the bathroom to make sure he hasn’t gotten in the bath and almost fallen asleep (because that’s happened one too many times for his comfort) but the younger boy isn’t in there so he continues on to the bedroom. The door is cracked halfway, letting bright light into the hall. He peaks around the door, hand on the edge to jerk it open but he stops quickly, swallows hard. 

Harry is lying out on the bed, stretched out as long as his limbs will allow. His computer has been halfway shut and his earphones stick out from the side, still slipped into his ears. One hand is slipped above his head, clinched around the edge of the pillow that’s placed under his head and the other is rubbing at the soft skin of his lower tummy, pale and smooth. Louis’ mouth waters and his fingers curl in, ache to reach out, to run themselves over the skin as well. 

Louis watches from the doorway, leans his shoulder against the wood and watches as Harry’s fingers tease along the waistband of his black boxers. He slips them under slowly and circles his fist around the shape of his cock beneath the fabric. He’s never been quiet, biting over his lips until their swollen and dark, until the sound is desperate to come out – until it pours out and he can’t stop the sobs and whine and “Daddy.”

Harry’s hand moves easily beneath the fabric as he tugs at his cock, and his legs kick out, shift in the sheets. The tendons in his feet stick out as he flexes and Louis gets a flash of a shadowy bruise that he left on Harry’s right thigh that morning. It’s not too dark, just deepening at points where Louis’ teeth had nipped the skin a violent shade of purple. It looks painful and Louis is struck with the urge to crawl up Harry’s body and darken it, bite and suck at the skin until Harry is begging him to stop, to fuck him, to do anything. He gets distracted before he can though, as Harry’s other arm moves from above his head and starts a smooth trail underneath the dark grey of his sweater. 

Louis knows where his hand is headed, watches with baited breath as Harry shoves the sweater up under his armpits and then comes back to trail a lone finger around the deep pink of his nipple. The skin of his chest is flushed, like his cheeks, a rose colour that makes him look desperate, so terribly needy that Louis wants to walk in right then. He doesn’t walk in, even though he slips his hand down and palms at his cock through his trousers. He’s half hard already and his skin feels hot and tight as he stares on, watches as Harry’s finger finally pinch at the skin of his nipples. He gasps, high and pretty, like when Louis brushes against his prostate with his middle finger and then licks just left of the rim. Louis bites at his lip, forces the moan in throat back down as Harry’s hand moves beneath his boxers and his fingers pinch at his chest and he does well. He keeps all the noises back and avoids walking into the room until Harry opens his mouth and whispers out, high and needy. 

“Daddy”

Louis’ feet make no noise on the floor as he walks to the bed, and Harry’s eyes have been clenched shut since Louis came in. He grips at the bony ankle, and Harry jerks, eyes wide and terrified as he sits up.

“L-Louis, when did you get in?” His hand is still slipped beneath his boxers, fist moving easily with only a few hitches in his breath but his sweater falls back down his chest, hand slipping to fist in the sheets. Louis frowns at him. Harry glances back over at the door, as if it should still be cracked and Louis actually just appeared out of thin air at the end of the bed. 

“Baby, don’t you know better than to play while I’m not here?”

Harry’s eyes widen and they look so innocent, so deliciously guilty that he’s touched himself without Louis. He slowly pulls his hand out of his pants and bites at his lip.

“No, baby, you put that hand back in there. If you’re so desperate, you can take care of yourself. I’ll leave you to it, “ He says it with an air of finality, the tone that he uses on the dumbest clients. Harry looks stricken, stares up at him from the bed with cloudy eyes. His bottom lips wobbles.

“No, please stay.” There’s a glint behind Harry’s eye, where he’s fully himself and knows that Louis can definitely not pull himself away from Harry. 

“Well, I don’t know if you deserve to play with me tonight, baby. You’ve been naughty.” He goes for his belt, unbuckling and tugging it from around his waist to toss it onto the floor, followed by his shirt. Harry watches him, chews at his lip and thrusts into the air. “You have to do as I say, Harry. Do you understand?”

Harry nods, holds his hands up for Louis and lets his lip pop out from between his teeth. It’s slick with spit and a violent red. Louis raises an eyebrow, slaps one of Harry’s hands back down to the bed.

“Tell me your colour.” He nods down at the dark boxers that leave absolutely nothing to the imagination, signaling for Harry to pull them off. Harry reaches down, a pout on his lips, and pulls the material down smooth thighs and skinny calves. His cock is an angry red at the head, where it rests just under his bellybutton. He leaves the sweater on.

“Green.” His voice is wrecked, stuck in his throat uncomfortably so Louis leans down and grabs at his shoulders, pulls him to sit up. 

“Does a spanking sound like a proper punishment to you, baby?” Louis asks, moving he laptop and other schoolwork off the bed before sitting himself down at the end of the bed, holding his arm up to help Harry lay across his lap. He’s still wearing his sweater and it sweeps down to brush softly at Louis’ own cock, hard where it rests between his stomach and Harry’s side. 

Louis takes his time, rubs over the cheeks of Harry’s ass as he tries to grind his cock into Louis’ thigh. The first pop is the hardest and it makes Louis’ hand sting as it swings back to equal out the red tinge on the other cheek. Harry’s ass flushes like his cheeks and chest, a violent pink that seems so angry and flustered that it makes Louis’ mouth run dry. He doesn’t go over ten, never goes over ten because that’s when Harry starts to sob, teeth pressing against his thigh as the other boy breathes out shakily.

“Daddy, please.”

“You’ve learned your lesson then?” He runs his hand over the smooth skin of Harry’s thighs before helping him to sit up. His ass rests on Louis’ thighs and he winces, leans forward to hide his face in Louis’ neck. “Wanna tell me your colour, baby? You still green?”

He feels Harry whisper out a yes against his neck, his eyes are leaking tears onto the skin and his breath is hot and sticky but Louis doesn’t mind. He runs his hands up under the sweater, sweeping over Harry’s spine. He traces the knotted bone, letting Harry cry it out. It doesn’t take him long before the tears have stopped and his hips are rocking against the warm skin of Louis’ tummy. 

“I missed you today.” Louis says, coming in to bring Harry back so that maybe they can continue if Harry wants because he really had missed Harry. It wouldn’t be long before Louis was asked to head back to America to speak with some new music clients and he would have to leave Harry in their house alone for two weeks at the least. Harry kisses at his neck once, nuzzles into the skin. 

“Missed you too. Thought about you all day,” says Harry, hands coming up from where they’d been resting between them to settle over Louis’ heart, thumbing over the tattooed skin. 

“Is that what led to you wanking when you knew I was on my way?” Louis teases, turning to laugh over Harry’s ear. He feels Harry smile into his skin, but when he moves to laugh his bum brushes over Louis’ thighs oddly and he hisses. “Alright?”

“Yeah, just sore.”

“Want me to kiss it better?” His intention is heavy in the air and Louis knows that Harry picked up on it, because his breath hitches and he’s back to before. He’s playing again. His head comes up and his lips brush over Louis’ cheek when he says:

“Will you kiss it better, Daddy?” 

Harry’s cheeks are flushed so heavily, a pink so bright that Louis has to kiss them first. He presses soft kisses to Harry’s cheeks and then to his lips, licking over the raw-bitten lips and then pulling back to get Harry out of his sweater and into the position he wants. 

When Louis crawls between his thighs, Harry is on his stomach with his hands fisted in the pillows and his cock searching for friction in the sheets. Louis spreads the bruised skin of Harry’s ass, leaning down to kiss at the skin next to his hole. Harry keeps letting out little breathy noises, hips arching up to meet Louis’ mouth. He sounds so desperate, like he’d die if Louis didn’t get his mouth on him soon. Louis smirks into the skin, brings a hand up to pop at the flesh of his cheek.

He starts with the flat of his tongue, sweeps it from balls to tailbone. Harry’s knees pop, shins flying up off of the bed as Louis sucks at the rim, lets his teeth brush the way Harry likes. It’s not long before Louis is pointing his tongue and licking into Harry as the other boy sobs into the pillow. Harry’s got two of his own fingers stuck in his mouth, teeth gnashing down on them as spit drips down his wrist and the other is under his chest, squashed but still pulling at his puffy, swollen nipples. 

“D-Daddy, please,” Harry begs, words jumbled around his fingers and the excessive spit in his mouth. Louis licks over him one last time, pulls up and finds Harry with the same red cheeks but glassier eyes. He wipes his mouth then kisses up Harry’s back, noses into the sweaty curls until he can whisper into his ear.

“What do you want, baby?”

“Fuck me, Daddy, please.” He whines, arches his hips up so that Louis’ cock rubs along his crack. He leans down to kiss at Harry’s mouth, reaches out to grab the lube from the drawer. Harry’s got spit smeared all over his chin so the kiss is messy and he keeps whining and moaning into Louis’ mouth like he has so much to say; but Louis knows that when they stop, Harry will only be left to bite at the pillow, suck on his fingers, or sob out forgotten words as Louis slips his fingers inside. 

He coats his fingers, sucks at Harry’s bottom lip and then circles the rim as Harry just starts panting into his mouth. He tries not to rush through stretching him out, but his cock has shifted to the side, rubs against Harry’s hip until he reaches down as wraps his wet fingers around Louis’ cock and tugs. He bites into the flesh of Harry’s shoulder, rubs against his prostate a few times and then pulls away.

When Harry’s like this, desperate for anything that Louis will give him, it’s easy to move him so that his ass is in the air and his face is buried in the pillow. He’s babbling into the fabric, shifting his hips as Louis’ rubs the head of his cock over Harry’s hole. He pushes in slowly, watches Harry’s back arch ridiculously, keeps an eye on the slow trickle of sweat between his shoulder blades. He waits for Harry to grind back, to flex his hips before he moves and when he does, then Louis goes for it. He works his hips quickly; feels his balls slap against Harry with each thrust. The sound of slapping skin is ugly, but the sounds of Harry moaning into the pillow and his fist are beautiful.

“Gonna come before Daddy okay, baby?” Louis hisses through his teeth, fingers tight over Harry’s hips as he grinds against him, angles to hit his prostate with each thrust. “You’re gonna come on Daddy’s cock like a good boy.” 

Louis rakes his fingertips down Harry’s back. His nails are long enough to leave marks, but the pressure sets Harry on fire and he’s clenching around Louis like he never wants him to leave. 

“Daddy. Daddy. Daddy.” Harry’s chants into the pillow, an endless stream as he comes onto the sheets, clenching around Louis as he keeps fucking into him.

Louis thrusts a bit more, comes with a cry that’s muffled into Harry’s shoulder as he bites the skin between sharp teeth. He doesn’t pull away right after, just props himself over Harry, kisses over his back and shoulders. When he does roll over, he pulls Harry up into his chest, pushes the hair off of his forehead and brushes the last of the tears in his eyes away. 

“Such a good boy. My best boy.” 

And Harry’s answering smile is watery, wobbly but it is so, so beautiful

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading. i apologize for any mistakes. please feel free to come say hello at my [tumblr](http://falsecompare.tumblr.com). i'd really like to know some of what you guys would like to read in the future, so feel free to leave ideas and things -- especially let me know if you'd like something with more ~feels~ than just ~dickinbutt~


End file.
